“Who is he? What would he want from Leila?”
Father Marcus watched him somberly. “He’s a violent criminal. A grave robber. A thief. The police have been searching for him for years. I don’t know what exactly his plan is with Miss Sterling, but he’s taking her deeper into the mountains. They’re heading for a tomb, one we have been trying to locate for decades, before the wrong people get their hands on it. It is said to hold an artifact so powerful, it could destroy an entire city. Go alone. And quickly. Tell no one where you’re going. You will only put others in danger if you do.”
What kind of mess had Leila gotten herself into? Sounded like something the authorities needed to know about. Xander raked his fingers through his hair. Did he really want to get them more involved? He would be faster on his own. And he could take care of this guy in any way he saw fit.
He nodded. “I’ll go alone.”
The monk held out the map to him, folded to show an area with a bold X written in red.
“Be careful. And good luck.”
It wasn’t difficult to slip away from the monastery and walk back to the jeep to grab a few supplies. Once ready, Xander shrugged his backpack over his shoulder and started down the gravel trail, the one Father Marcus had marked as a starting point.
Isolated snowflakes floated down from the black sky. A ten-mile hike through the mountains on a cold and snowy night was not ideal, but he intended to walk every minute of it.
“Xander!” Emma shouted from somewhere behind him.
He stopped and turned to see Emma jogging toward him. “You all right?”
“Finally. I’ve been waiting here for an hour. Where’s Leila? What’s up with all the police? They wouldn’t let me into the monastery. Where are you going?”
Xander cringed. “Sorry, I’ve been busy.”
“Uh-huh.” She stopped a few feet from him and glanced over his shoulder, toward the trail. “What in the world is going on?”
Xander adjusted the strap of his backpack. “Well,” he started slowly, still undecided how much he should tell her. “Actually, she’s not here. Not anymore.”
“What? How’s that possible?”
“Yeah. I have no idea. Look, I need you to do something for me.”
Confusion flickered across her face. “Okay. What?”
“Wait for us. Go get a hotel room.”
“What? Wait for you? Where are you going? I’m coming—”
Xander held up a hand. “No. I need you here. Leila needs you here.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
Xander sighed. He needed to try a different approach. “Go get a hotel room. Leila will probably want a nice bed and food once we’re back. I reckon it should only take a couple hours. It’s a long walk through snow and… we’ll be back soon.”
Emma cast another glance at the trail then shook her head. “You shouldn’t go alone. What if you slip and break your leg—”
“Stop.” He’d had enough. He stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder, turning her in the direction of the parking lot. “Get in the jeep. Or I’ll force you to.”
Emma shook off his hand. “Fine, gosh. You don’t have to get all creepy about it.”
He watched as she stomped off and a small pang of remorse twisted in his stomach.
She turned and walked backward. “Hotel and food. Food I can do. It’ll be a feast.”
“Can’t wait,” he called after her.
“Two hours, okay?”
He waved.
She whirled back around and lumbered toward the parking lot, her hands shoved in her pockets.
Xander resumed his hike, his feet crunching over the freshly fallen snow. The glittering lights of the city disappeared behind the mountain, one by one, until he was alone in the darkness.
CHAPTER 40
Leila cried. It was an awful combination with the cold and snow, her cheeks now frozen, but there was no holding it back. Xander had been so close, and once again she’d been ripped away. But she knew him. He wouldn’t give up. He’d still be looking for her.
Unable to find any sleep, Leila watched as snowflakes sprinkled from the sky. The jagged surfaces of the mountains were already covered in sheets of white, deepening under the fresh supply.
Father Marcus had been right. The trail was dangerous. With the added hazard of ice, she could easily lose her footing and tumble a hundred feet onto sharp, unforgiving stones. Attempting escape would be stupid. She wouldn’t get very far with her hands bound together with the zip-tie. After trudging through the mountains in the dark, she had no idea how to get back. What would she do if she did get away? Hide behind a rock?
Her eyes flickered to Abdullah, who sat several yards away, still in the shelter of the outcrop. Amina’s body, wrapped and ready for burial, lay next to him. With a knife in one hand and a shapeless chunk of wood in the other, chips flew in random directions as he twisted and flicked the blade. It was fascinating how he could work so delicately with such a brutal weapon. One he nearly used to cut off her hand. She shivered.
Thousands of questions swirled in her mind, new ones popping up every few minutes. He probably wouldn’t talk even if she had the guts to ask. But there was nothing to lose. At least she might get answers.
“So,” Leila started, her voice congested. She cleared her throat. “You and Father Marcus go way back, huh?”
Abdullah grunted and kept his eyes on his work. “The monks of Saint Catherine have been trying to find the tomb for decades.”
